A Surprise Present
by Katbin
Summary: How the F!LW found a certain dog on a day that she had forgotten the importance of.


"Get up, Kid."

I groan. Five minutes must have passed, not an entire night. There's no way that I've been sleeping for a couple of hours. I bury my face against my pack and try to ignore the fact that I have a man crouching by my side shaking my shoulder. I can play dead really well if I put my mind to it. I start to think that I could work this shaking into a calming sort of rocking motion. Yeah, definitely. I could make this work. Just a few more minutes of shut-eye.

"Ruth. Wake up."

"No."

Charon sighs and the incessant shaking stops. Hah. I've won this one. Finally something that I can say I've beaten him at. Serves him right, trying to wake up a lady from her beauty rest, next time he's been asleep for longer than a minute I'm paying him back in full. I pull my knees up and curl into the fetal position in a desperate attempt to hold onto the warmth I've accumulated. I find myself floating in and out of being aware of my surroundings and I know that sleep is just around the corner. Sweet, sweet oblivion. Hello my old friend.

Suddenly, a shot rings loud and clear not too far from my head. I scream and jolt upwards, wrenching my knife from under my pack, ready to strike. The last thing that I want to see as soon as I wake up is a pack of raiders. Not a situation I'm ready to start the day with. All that I'm met with is Charon resting my rifle on his hip and that stupid blank look of his. The bastard fired a round just to wake me up? That's grounds for murder in my mind.

"What the hell is wrong with you?" I bristle, standing up. "Some people need sleep!"

"You said to wake you up when there was enough light to travel." The statement is so matter of fact, like he didn't just shoot my rifle and nearly give me a heart attack. I think that I can hear some veiled smugness under his tone. "It'll take us a couple of hours to get to Arefu."

I'm about to carve that look off his face when I realize what he's said. When I had practically fallen onto the ground earlier I _had_ told him to wake me up when there was enough light. I hate night travel in the open Wastes. Sure enough, the sun is just starting to break over the horizon and that strange dawn light is slowly bathing the world for another bleak day. What had felt like minutes had been hours of sleep. Damn.

I can tell that Charon is waiting for me to say something but I 'm not ready to admit that he was right. I decide to busy myself with my Pipboy instead, fiddling with the nobs and setting our destination for Arefu. We promised that we'd come back with good news and that is exactly what we've got. A neat little exchange system for the residents of Arefu to look over: blood packs for protection. Seems fair to me. No more dead people or Brahmin, at least. Plus, What's His Face is off to Megaton to be with his sister. All around not a bad day, yesterday.

In my messages there is a new entry that I didn't input. I arch an eyebrow, curious as to what it could be. The title of the entry reads 'An Important Message from Vault-Tec'. The hell? Forgetting the petty and virtually one-sided fight between Charon and myself, I reach out until my hand lands purchase on his arm. I pull him towards me in insistent little tugs until he gives in and moves to stand behind me so he can read over my shoulder.

"What is it?" He asks as he reads what I point out to him. "Vault-Tec? How the hell did they get a message to you?"

"I have no idea."

"Malfunction?"

I shrug. "Could be. These things go on the fritz from time to time. Probably nothing."

I feel him shift so he can lean in a bit closer, he smells like dirt and gunpowder. "Going to open it?"

What's the worst that could happen? If anything, it's probably just a message full of nonsense. Spending three years as a Pipboy tech back in the Vault taught me to never expect much from these things. I've seen weirder things come through in the messages. If it ends up being nothing at least it provided a few minutes of entertainment. I move the selector back up to the message and open it, actually feeling relatively excited. This is pretty pathetic; I'm excited to open a message that's likely a malfunction. I would say that I needed to get out more often if I wasn't already out.

 _An Important Message from Vault-Tec:_

 _Hello Recipient! This unit has sent an automatic notification on behalf of your friends at Vault-Tec to wish you a happy birthday! Based on the information entered into this unit, you are celebrating your 20_ _th_ _year inside Vault 101, congratulations! Everyone at Vault-Tec hopes you enjoy this special day. Thank you for choosing Vault-Tec for your post-apocalyptic habitations!_

Well. Not exactly thrilling like I'd hoped it would be. My arm falls to my side and I look back to Charon. He looks as let down as I do, arms folded across his chest, a small frown on his lips. I think we both would have enjoyed a new adventure. There's nothing to be done about it, though. Just a silly automatic message. I move back to my pack and fish out a small bit of string, braiding my hair for the day. As I move the brown locks back and forth I can't help but chuckle. What had I been expecting, some kind of SOS message? The people that ran Vault-Tec have been dead for a long time, some of them probably even died in the first few bomb droppings. They could have been ghoulified, I guess. I tie the string and let the heavy braid fall against my chest before slipping my pack into place.

"On behalf of your friends at Vault-Tec," I mock in a snooty tone as we leave our temporary camp, "we hope you have a safe journey to Arefu!"

Charon falls into step at my side and begins scanning the Wastes for any movement. "Don't think they'd like the fact that you're out of your Vault, Kid."

"Recipient! Based on the information found in this unit, we have determined that you have left your Vault. Your friends at Vault-Tec implore you to return to your assigned, and safe, home!"

Besides a huff from Charon after my joke, we fall into our usual silence. I'm grateful for it. It gives me time to think. Anyone else would probably be uncomfortable with it but we've gotten so used to it at this point. Having conversations while traveling would almost feel wrong. Silence is our shtick. We've got to look like quite the pair: a giant ghoul and a tiny ex-Vaultie, both armed to the teeth. I'd pay a good amount of caps to see it through someone else's eyes.

As the morning stretches on I'm sucked into my memories of previous birthdays. Birthdays were my _thing_ back in the Vault. It didn't matter if they were mine or someone else's, I lived for celebrating the mark of another year gone. My sixteenth birthday had been a birthday week full of baseball games, sleepovers, and far too much cake. It had been one of the best birthdays I could remember. Although, not much could top my tenth birthday. Dad and Jonas had made sure of that when they had handed me that BB gun.

Here I am now, outside of the Vault, wandering around the Wastes of what had once been the capital of the United States of America. Twenty years old, searching for a father, a well-seasoned fighter. In all of the action I've totally forgotten about the day that used to be my favorite. Life changes pretty fast out here, priorities shift. I wonder what Dad would have planned for this birthday, what I would have planned back in the Vault. I swallow around the lump that has formed in my throat. The sting of my father's abandonment still cuts at me like a knife.

Our path takes us past an old junkyard and I stop momentarily to add the location to my map of the Waste, wiping the sweat off of my forehead. It's barely past nine and it's already shaping up to be blisteringly hot. As the months pass and our travels take us further out, my map collects more and more points of interest. We're about to continue on when I hear something that seems out of place for a graveyard of metal scraps.

"Did you hear that?" My voice cracks from disuse and Charon shakes his head in disinterest. "It sounded like an animal."

"It could be a Deathclaw. It's dangerous here."

Ah, the tried and true Charon phrase. "It's dangerous everywhere, buddy."

"We should keep moving."

His tone is firm but I hear that sound again and turn into the open gate of the junkyard. A little detour won't hurt too much. Arefu will still be there. Inside of the chain-link fence are the typical pieces anyone would expect. I'm not interested in what people have gotten rid of and continue to follow the sound until we're in the far corner of the yard. Directly in front of us is a pack of dogs going at something. I can't make out what it is from this angle and push by the burned skeleton of a car.

My movements alert the pack that something is coming up behind them and they turn, teeth bared and growling. They don't like that I've interrupted whatever they were doing and I pull my pistol from its hip holster. This is what I heard, a pack of wild dogs going after something either for sport or for a meal. They seem to like my gun even less and one lunges towards me, mouth foaming. _They're trying to kill you!_ My brain screams. _Shoot them!_ Shooting is an action that has become so mechanical to me. I don't even flinch when the others come for me.

Charon downs the remaining dogs with that clinical accuracy I've learned so well from as my eyes fall on what they were tormenting. It's another dog, skinny and slightly smaller than the others. Surprisingly, it wags its tail when I approach and I can't help but smile. Back in the Vault we read about 'Man's best friend', but I never thought I'd actually come across one that didn't want to tear my throat out. The practical side of me says to leave the dog to its fate, we've helped enough already, but there's another part that has already latched onto the idea of taking the dog along with us.

"Hi there," I crouch and hold out a hand. "It's alright."

The dog sniffs at the air, cautious, but walks towards me until I can run my fingers through his dark fur. For living in the Wastes, besides being a little on the thin side, he's in pretty good shape. He must have had interaction with humans before by the way he keeps nuzzling my hand, asking for me to pet him more. I think that I can hear my heart breaking and melting at the same time. I can't just leave him out here alone. My abandonment issues are rearing their ugly head. Around his neck is a small leather collar boasting a circular tag reading 'Dogmeat'. Guess that's what he's called, then.

"Are you Dogmeat?" I know he can't answer but his bark is enough of a confirmation. He's precious. "Yeah, good boy!"

"Kid." I can already hear Charon's argument. He won't want to keep him, it's another mouth to feed, and he's not safe, yadda yadda. "We're losing time."

I feel little again, asking my dad for something, and prepare to use my sweetest voice. "Charon? Can we keep him?"

Dogmeat seems to understand what I'm asking because he moves over to Charon and begins to wag his tail aggressively, letting out an adorable little whine. I expect my companion to ignore Dogmeat's sales pitch, I expect him to tell me to leave the dog alone. I can barely hide my glee when he bends over and runs a hand down the dog's back and back up, ending with a few light pats on his head. Move over, sixteenth birthday! This year is clearly the winner. I've got a pet!

"He's skinny," Charon notes. "We should find him something to eat before we leave."

I'm already opening a can of beans like it's some kind of competition and Charon finds a long forgotten piece of metal that serves as a makeshift bowl. Dogmeat watches us with bright chocolate eyes, his bubblegum pink tongue lolling out the side of his mouth. I'm not sure if he knows it yet but he's fallen into a new family. I _do_ know a happy animal when I see one and he's thrilled when I push the bowl of beans towards him. As he eats I check him over for any cuts but find him free of any obvious injury, he doesn't seem to mind my ministrations as he eats.

"Good birthday so far?" Charon asks as we leave the yard.

I watch Dogmeat bound ahead of us and turn around as if to say we're taking too long, and chuckle. "So far? The best."


End file.
